


a field trip to moma

by badbavarois



Series: iw can't hurt you if it never happened [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Field Trip, Fluff, Infinity War never happened, Kinda, M/M, Museum Date, bc i care about yalls well being, no infinity war spoilers, slight panic attack?? blink and you miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 03:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14559699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbavarois/pseuds/badbavarois
Summary: Peter goes on a field trip to MoMA and nothing bad happens to anyone ever.





	a field trip to moma

**Author's Note:**

> so i've seen infinity war twice now and no one deserved anything that happened so this is a thing now  
> self edited so pls let me know if there's a typo

Aunt May leans against the doorframe, watching him shove the spiderman suit to the bottom of his backpack.

 

“Do you think you’ll need it?” she asks, voice soft. “I don’t think modern art is that threatening."

 

Since she found out, neither of them really know how to talk about it. He knows she waits up when he doesn’t come home by curfew, and Karen reminds him how much she worries, every time he’s out late on a mission Mr. Stark might have approved if he had any idea it was happening.

 

And still - they don’t talk about it.

 

“I doubt it.” He doesn’t look at her. “But I’d rather have it and not use it, than need it and not have it.”

 

She nods once, before - “You’ll miss your bus if you don’t hurry, Peter.”

 

…

 

He fidgets the whole city bus ride to Midtown, hands never straying far from the zipper of his bag. He watches the sky, waiting for something to drop out of the air.

 

Since the whole Captain America/Vienna/Accords mess, Stark’s gone quiet. Peter knows, if something happened, something big _,_ Mr. Stark would tell him. Or, he’d see it on the news and invite himself. It’s just this... _waiting_ that leaves him on edge.

 

 _There’s nothing out there,_ he tells himself. Even still, he gets off the bus two stops early and runs the rest of the way, forcing oxygen into his lungs.

 

…

 

By 8:53 he’s at school, breathing hard but less jittery, and at nine-oh-five, he’s on another bus, walking behind Ned in search of an empty seat. In the middle of the bus, he’s starting to sit down next to Ned, but Flash is catching his hand and dragging him into the seat opposite.

 

He doesn’t let go of Peter’s hand as he says, “I want you to sit next to me.”

 

“I didn’t think I had much of a choice,” but he smiles, squeezes Flash’s hand once.

 

Ned groans. “Are you two going to be like this the whole time?”

 

Peter glances at Flash for half a second, and at the same time, they say, “Yes.”

 

Ned’s face scrunches up. “Stop that. It’s fucking creepy.”

 

“There’s no need to be jealous,” Flash says, leaning back against the window. His knee presses into Peter’s thigh, warm, comforting. “We know you have a hard-on for - “

 

“That’s enough of that!” Ned yanks his earbuds out of his bag, still tangled, and throws them at Flash’s face. He misses and they sail out the open window. A second later, a garbage truck drives past.

 

Ned’s face falls. “Those were the only pair I brought.”

 

“Tragic.” Flash pulls his own pair out of his bag, handing the left bud to Peter. “You should have thought about that before you tried to hit me.”

 

“You should have - !”

 

Peter rolls his eyes. “You’re both lucky I love you,” he says, digging out a beaten up pair. They’re old, kind of gross, and definitely not built to be worn inside the spider suit. Or maybe, Karen just didn’t like them. Karen doesn’t like most of the tech he brings into the suit.

 

“I would die for you,” Ned says. Peter can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

 

…

 

It takes an hour to get to MOMA - traffic’s blocked up on FRK and the bus driver is kinda shitty at not driving over the curb every time he makes a right turn - but by the time they eventually arrive, half of the bus is passed out and Peter’s feeling a lot less anxious. Flash’s fingers are still wrapped around his, squeezing once when they pull up beside the museum but still not letting go.

 

It takes even longer to get through security. Thirty high schoolers are bad enough on a good day; Peter just makes it worse. The guard checking Peter’s bag frowns, eyebrows scrunching up.

 

“Is there a problem?” Peter asks, hoping the guard doesn't point it out. He wasn’t thinking when he brought it; he doesn’t need the wrong person to notice now.

 

“No,” they say, voice low. “Have a nice visit, Spider-Man.”

 

Peter nods once, zips his bag, and disappears into the crowd. As hard as it is, he’s going to be just Peter today.

 

…

 

“Do you think,” Flash asks, “that the artist knew that you’re actually a teenager who gets grounded for breaking curfew when you’re off saving the world?”

 

They’re in the second-floor special exhibits gallery. Peter’s never really gotten modern art - or art in general, really, symbolism is bullshit and he hates it and will fight anyone who disagrees - and he didn’t realize the painting was supposed to be of him and the other Avengers until Flash pointed it out.

 

“I don’t just save the world,” Peter replies, pouting. His head is still tilted to make the painting clearer. It doesn’t work.

 

“True. Sometimes you rescue cats from trees.”

 

Peter kicks his shin, not hard enough to hurt. Flash laughs, rolls his eyes, pulls Peter down into a kiss.

 

…

 

By the time they make it to the third floor - Architecture and Design, Drawing, Photography - Flash’s feet hurt and he’s convinced Peter to carry him around. When Ned, a few steps ahead, turns around and sees them, he rolls his eyes.

 

“You’re going to get us kicked out.”

 

Flash flips him off. “No, we’re not. Besides, Peter likes it.”

 

“Seriously, Peter?”

 

Peter shrugs, making Flash’s thighs tighten around his stomach for half a second until he readjusts his grip. “He’s not that heavy.”

 

“You two are such a gross couple,” Ned replies, turning around to keep walking, but there’s no real malice in his words.

 

…

 

On the fourth floor, they find a painting of Captain America. Flash clings to Peter so he doesn’t fall while Peter takes a picture of it to send to the Avengers’ group chat.

 

“Does he really look like that?” Ned asks.

 

“He’s more…” Peter pauses, trying to find the slight mistakes. “Muscular? Or now, at least. He might have looked like that during the war.” He doesn’t say the first time he saw Steve, back in Germany, he had looked even more tired. Looking back on it, he’s not sure if he would have taken Mr. Stark’s side.

 

Flash squeezes his shoulder, bringing him back. “It’s not your fault,” he whispers. Peter doesn’t know when Flash started knowing everything he was thinking. Even Ned doesn’t know him that well. He squeezes Flash’s ankle in silent thanks.

 

…

 

On the way back to school, Peter falls asleep on the bus holding Flash’s hand. When he wakes up, he’s still there.

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading!! comments/kudos appreciated. i have a few other peter centric fics, with either ned or flash, so check those out if you're interested!!  
> twitter - saphhojpg  
> tumblr - shuos-jedao/claude-lit


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